


Braid

by aron_kristina



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Female Characters, Female Friendship, Female-Centric, Gen, Hair, Pre-Femslash, braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aron_kristina/pseuds/aron_kristina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment between Mal and Polly on the way to find Blouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Braid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shieldmaidenofmithrilhall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldmaidenofmithrilhall/gifts).



> Dear shieldmaidenofmithrilhall!
> 
> I tried to write some adventure for you, but as it turns out I wrote a little slice of stillness instead. I hope you're not too disappointed by this.
> 
> The story can be read as pre-slash, or gen, depending on your preferences.
> 
> Thanks to C, as ever, for the beta.

Polly's hair is too short to really do anything proper with now. She tried putting it in a hair net, but it kept escaping, so instead it's like a blonde halo all around her head. It's annoying, but she figures it's something she just has to deal with while it grows back out, because it will grow back. She has promised herself, and that is that.

Maladicta wears her hair short still, probably because of practical reasons, but she does think it's fun when people think she's male sometimes, despite the fact that she's still wearing the female uniform, albeit with trousers underneath, just like Polly. All of Polly's new recruits (all five of them; not every recruit is happy with a female sergeant) also wear the skirt/trouser combination, even one that Maladicta swears up and down is a boy. Or rather “he was born a boy, but I say let everyone decide who they want to be”, and Polly hadn't argued. It's just nice to have people around who actually want to be around.

The search for Blouse is getting desperate, because if they don't find him soon they're going to be put under some other officer's command, whether they want to or not. The fact that Polly is female and has a vampire for corporal will only get them so far, leave them be for so long. Having another officer really won't be conducive to some of Polly's madder ideas, even if she's fairly certain of her own ability to Rupert-manage.

Right now though, right now they've stopped for the night. It never really gets warm up here, and the springs are always freezing, but Polly hasn't washed properly in over a week, and she can't stand the smell of herself. Neither can Maladicta, if all the complaining is anything to go by, but she still won't sleep further away from Polly. It makes Polly wonder if it's some kind of protection thing, but she's not sure who is supposed to be protecting whom, and she's not sure she wants to know. Maladicta did make herself that necklace of coffee beans though, so she should be fine, and Polly can take care of herself, but it's still comforting.

Polly washes herself off as quickly as she can, not that any type of wash in freezing water can really be considered quickly enough, and then walks back to the camp and the fire. She is shivering, and as soon as she sits down Maladicta comes and puts a blanket around her.

“You know,” Maladicta says, “when I suggested you wash, I didn't mean for you to kill yourself while doing so.”

“I don't see any other options, do you?” Polly snaps, irritated at being cold, at her hair dripping down her neck, at the war, at stupidity, at not finding Blouse.

Maladicta just raises an eyebrow.

“I'm sorry, I just...” Polly says.

“Hate stupidity, yes, I know,” Maladicta says. “But sometimes you need someone to point out your own stupidity.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I can fix your hair for you,” Maladicta says, and leans into Polly's personal space. Polly draws back.

“I'm growing it out, you're not cutting it. Do you even have scissors?” Polly asks.

“I'm not talking about cutting, I'm talking about braiding. I used to be pretty good at it. Comes with the whole under-wired nightdress gig.”

“It's too short to do that,” Polly says, but tilts her head so that Maladicta can start combing through her hair.

“Watch and learn, dear sergeant, watch and learn.”

***

There is rather a lot more combing involved in making the braids than Polly remembered, and also a lot more massage. Maladicta doesn't even keep the massage to Polly's scalp but continues down Polly's neck and to her shoulders. One of the recruits comes along to say good night before taking her watch. She stops and stares, and then leaves without saying anything.

“Mal, did you just glare at her?” Polly asks, but without much interest. She is getting warm and relaxed, and she really hopes they aren't going to be attacked right now, because she'd not sure she'd be able to stand.

“Would I do something like that?” Maladicta asks, but it's mostly rhetorical. They both know she would.

“Can you tell if we're going to be attacked?” Polly asks.

“Don't you trust your new recruits?”

“ _Our_ new recruits, and of course I don't. They're not soldiers, not yet.”

“I don't think there's anyone out there,” Maladicta says, and there's a note of pride in her voice. Maybe because of the recruits, maybe because Polly trusts her, maybe because of something else. She's always so inscrutable, but Polly hopes it's got something to do with her.

They sit in silence for a while longer, and Polly feels Maladicta's fingers start to work with purpose, braiding her hair in a pattern she can't recognize by touch. When she was little her mother had braided her hair every morning, and she can still remember the way it felt, her mother tugging slightly too hard because nothing was really supposed to be pleasant and it was supposed to stay in place the whole day, and what Maladicta does feels nothing like it. She's working with light fingers, and Polly feels even more sleepy than before.

“There, it's finished,” Maladicta finally says. Polly touches her hair, and finds that even now she can't figure out how it's done, or even how it looks. She fishes in one of her pockets for a mirror. The only word for what she sees is 'stunning'. She can't even describe it, but somehow Maladicta has managed to make her look female, and fierce, and wholly herself. She finds tears in her eyes, and puts the mirror down so she won't have to see herself cry.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, and Maladicta just claps her on the shoulder.

“It's going to need redoing every other day or so,” Maladicta says, and Polly could swear there's something strange in her voice. “I'd be happy to do it.”

“Yeah, thanks Mal,” Polly says. She stares into the fire. “You go to bed, I'm just gonna warm up a bit more first.”

Maladicta leaves without a word, and Polly smiles to herself, and lets some of the tears fall. It might be a strange friendship she has with Maladicta, and she can never really understand her motivations, what comes from being a vampire and what is just pure Maladicta, but it's one of the best things that have happened to her. She would say something about it, except she's sure Maladicta knows, and it would probably make them both very uncomfortable to say any of the unspoken things between them. She takes a last look at the fire before getting up and going to bed herself.


End file.
